


Not Willow Anymore

by maryfic



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:49:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryfic/pseuds/maryfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which evil wins (sort of) and I turn the landscape of Highlander on its ear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. I didn't research anything about Highlander because I wanted to make up mostly my own lore, so its supposed to wrong, and if I got anything right, it's by accident and what I know through pop culture. 
> 
> Please adhere to the warnings. 
> 
> Thoughts = * *
> 
> Spoilers: (Even though this is majorly AU) Buffy: Canon up until Oz leaves Willow. Prologue occurs one month after that. Part one takes place a year later. Angel: Canon up until Doyle’s death. Part one takes place a year later there, too. And Lorne and Caritas is present in this fic. And, just because I say so, AI is located in the Hyperion, and it’s Wes, Cordy, and Angel.
> 
> Couple of songs in here, Kelly Clarkson and Sarah McClachlan. 
> 
> Comments are love!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which much set-up and violence occurs.

Sunnydale, California

Willow was sick and tired of spending her days and nights crying over someone who hadn’t even cared enough to tell her that they were breaking up. Buffy had long since stopped showing any kind of sympathy towards her, and she completely understood. It was way past time for Mopey Willow to take a hike out of their lives. She’d asked earlier if Willow had felt like going out to the Bronze tonight, and after a month of depression and not moving from her bed except for the occasional shower and bathroom stuff, she was more than ready to take the Slayer up on her offer.

A smile slowly grew across the redhead’s features as she got up out of bed and headed for the shower, her steps filled with a new purpose and bounce that no one had seen from her in weeks.

***

Buffy had to yell for Willow to hear her over the pounding music at the Bronze several hours later. "See! I told you this is what you needed!" The Slayer’s blonde hair spun around her shoulders as she danced, a grin creasing her face as she watched her best friend cut loose on the dance floor. Xander completed the third side of their very a-cute triangle *ha!* , and all in all, it was a relaxing evening for all of them, just what all of them needed.

"You were so right!" Willow yelled back, her body swaying to the beat as the mochas she’d had earlier flowed through her veins, adding to the delicious alive feeling she had. She tilted her head back and sang along to the popular lyrics coming from the speakers.

Since U Been Gone  
I can breathe for the first time  
I’m so movin’ on yeah yeah  
Thanks to you  
Now I get  
What I want  
Since U Been Gone

They danced until they were breathless, until finally Willow said during a rare moment of quiet, "I’m gonna fall down soon. The Willow Party Train needs to pull back into the station for something to cool her off." So they headed back to their table, Xander detouring to the bar for Pepsi, as tonight had been declared an alcohol free zone.

"You look great, Wills. Why does that outfit look so familiar to me?" Buffy complimented her friend, who blushed at her question.

"Cause I kind of borrowed it. Nothing I own really fit the way I wanted to feel tonight, you know?" Willow replied, staring down at her choice of clothing one more time. She’d borrowed a pair of Buffy’s leather pants, black; and a white velvet camisole that set off her hair and eyes magnificently. Willow had even done her makeup, more than she usually wore, at least. The shoes were her own, black chunky heels that were, amazingly enough, comfortable to dance in.

Xander had definitely gone non-verbal when he and Buffy had picked her up, and she’d drawn more than a few admiring glances from the patrons, male and female alike. After seeing just how much skin she’d be showing if she’d worn her hair up, Willow had left it loose, letting it curl naturally around her shoulders. The redhead had actually blushed at how naked she looked with it pulled back and up. She was feeling wild, but not too wild. She was going for more Kelly Clarkson than Kelly Osbourne tonight.

"I need some air," Willow said, fanning her flushed face. At Buffy’s look, she said, "Got my trusty stake, and, witch, remember?" She wiggled her fingers, and Buffy grinned.

"Just be careful out there, Wills. I don’t know what I’d do without you." The Slayer said, more seriously now. She came to regret those words in the next few weeks, and for the rest of her life.

***

Willow leaned against the wall beside the metal door to the Bronze, bobbing her head to the music and just taking a moment to bask in her feelings. She really felt happy for the first time in a long time tonight. Her relationship with Oz had been fine, but it hadn’t really been…explosive. He wasn’t much of an expressive person at his best moments, and she’d craved something that he just couldn’t give her. But still, she had loved him, and when he’d left without so much as a note telling her goodbye, it had hurt. More than she’d expected at the time, but once the anger had faded, there was a large hole that instantly filled up with grief. Oz had been a constant in her life since high school, someone that she could count on to always be there. She’d definitely taken him for granted, and that was probably her mistake, she thought.

Her musings were interrupted rather drastically when she felt the hard pressure of a… *a what? A gun?* she thought incredulously, her hand moving toward the stake in her pocket. But before she’d even shifted an inch, a low, dark voice filled her ear. "Move and you die." Willow’s movements stilled and her heart shook. Her mind began forming a spell, but it was barely a full thought before her mind was black and she was gone.

****

"Wills’ has been gone a long time, Buff," Xander noted, scanning the dance floor, and then the area near the door when he didn’t see his best Willow-shaped friend anywhere. "I’m gonna go find her." He said, rising from the stool and heading for the door. Buffy was right behind him, her heart clenched and icy with fear.

The redhead was nowhere to be seen when they reached the outside. Buffy went to check the alley and Xander stood by the wall where Willow had been earlier, with no trace of where she could be now. The Slayer came back around the corner, panic written across her face. "She’s not back there, Xander."

****

They tore the town of Sunnydale apart over the next two weeks looking for Willow. At the end of the first week, Willow’s parents stopped looking and the police closed the case. Willow Ann Rosenberg was officially dead to the world. But not to Buffy. Or Giles. Or Xander. Buffy learned very effectively from her Watcher over those two weeks how to inflict torture and how to keep a victim alive until you found out what you wanted to know. Unfortunately, all of her new-found skills proved fruitless, as no one knew, or would say, a word as to the whereabouts of a certain redhead.

Meanwhile, Willow was a country away, in New York. Or at least, her body was.

********

Willow woke to excruciating pain everywhere. It was like being in the ocean, floating, only with every roll and twist of the waves, all she felt was blinding pain. The first time she struggled into consciousness, it overwhelmed her, and she succumbed to the darkness again.

And the second time.

Also the third.

But the fourth time she awoke, the pain was gone. In fact, she couldn’t really feel any part of her body. It was just…numb. Willow forced her eyes open and took in her surroundings. She didn’t know how much time had passed, or if she was still in Sunnydale. She was just grateful not to feel any pain.

Unfortunately, that was about to change.

She was hanging from her wrists, about a foot off the floor. Her feet were chained too, spread wide like her arms, so that her body was in an X shape. Oh, and she was naked. Willow had just noted these wildly not pleasant facts when a door at the far end of the room opened, and a short, squat *human? demon?* entered the room. She couldn’t see its face; its entire body was covered in some kind of cloak. It was pushing a cart that was covered with another black cloth. Quickly, Willow let her head fall onto her shoulder and watched through shuttered eyes as it maneuvered the cart next to her and stopped, then it disappeared with a silent bang, if that was possible. Which reminded her, hello, she was a witch, why was she still here?

"Release," she whispered, then started as a low chuckle filled the air around her, growing louder and louder until she wanted to put her hands over her ears and whimper in pain.

"Stupid girl. You think I would bring you here and not bind your powers?" A man walked into her peripheral vision and Willow shrieked, then whimpered as the action grated over her raw throat. Not a man. A demon. A very, very tall and scary demon. Red. All over. Except for his *his?* eyes, they were solid black.

"I’m glad you’re awake, it’s not much fun playing with a toy who doesn’t respond to you." The demon ran a clawed hand over her breasts and Willow shuddered. He dug in a nail and she gritted her teeth, watching the blood well up. When he, it, bent down and licked it, then she screamed and fought to get away.

It didn’t help.

After he licked her, he took the cloth off the cart, and Willow began screaming in earnest, her mind supplying images of what he’d done to her before she’d lost consciousness for a long time. She knew exactly what each of the instruments was for; they had all been fashioned to provide maximum pain for the victim, while keeping him or her alive. Willow knew, because the demon had explained this all to her before.

With the knives, her mind registered the glint of the razor-sharp blades as he cut tiny, minute pieces of her skin off and ate them, until her blood was trickling slowly down her body to puddle below her.

With the long bullwhip, it was the tiny pieces of diamonds woven into it, cutting what was left of her skin off her body until she was nothing more than a piece of meat hanging from chains.

The long, pointed stick that he shoved into her ass until she tore, ripped, and bled there too, her mind praying for it to end, just to die, anything would be better than this never-ending torment. Death would be a mercy.

Thankfully, she was granted that request before he fucked her, her mind was already shut down as he violated her body, over and over again.

When he cut her open to look at her still-beating heart, there was no more Willow. And when her heart finally stopped beating, as he held it, and caressed it, he told his minion to dispose of the body where no one would find it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet the AI crew, Cordy kvetches, Wes admits he doesn't know something, and Willow both broods and flirts. Oh, and Angel makes a bad decision.

Los Angeles, California, One Year Later.

The woman who used to be Willow Rosenberg sat quietly a table in the back of a bar called Caritas, awaiting her turn to go onstage and sing. Technically, this was a demon karaoke bar, but it was also a sanctuary for all, demon, human, vampire, or Immortal like herself. She raised her head and smiled at the man across from her, her own personal Watcher. Oh, not like a Slayer’s Watcher, all Gabriel did really was record her history. But they were also lovers, and she knew that if someone actually managed to take her head, he would grieve for her more than was acceptable to the Council. As if he could read her thoughts, he spoke into the dimness.

"Like that would ever happen." He reached across the table and took her hand. "You haven’t come across a single Immortal that could take your head, and I doubt you ever will."

"Don’t get cocky, Gabriel," she admonished. She’d been lucky, so far, yes. But the girl she had once been had grown up on the Hellmouth and knew that you never, ever, jinxed yourself like that. And, she admitted, some of it was more than just luck. Some of it was pure skill, not to mention that her magical abilities gave her an edge that few others playing the Game had. She didn’t play the Game actively, but if an Immortal came after her head, she had no qualms about taking theirs. That was only one of the things that was very different from the girl she had once been.

Her head went up as Lorne announced her. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, one of my personal favorites is back in town tonight to grace you all with her version of the ever winsome Sarah McLachlan’s ‘Push’. Please put your hands, claws, or appendages together for the gorgeous and talented Phoenix!"

The patrons did as bid as she walked up to the stage. She’d been here before, and the ones that remembered her couldn’t wait to hear her sing again. Her voice was always full of some secret, sad ache, which touched even the most evil of their hearts.

She took the microphone from Lorne and bent to whisper in his ear. "Don’t read me, okay?" They had an agreement, but she still always asked him that, as though she needed reassurance from him that he wouldn’t violate her like that. He always agreed, though with misgivings. She seemed like she needed to get something off of her chest, and her songs usually gave an indication of that.

"This song is for a very special friend of mine," she whispered into the microphone before she started to sing. "He means a lot to me." Gabriel smiled at her words, and settled back into his chair.

Every time I look at you the world just melts away  
All my troubles all my fears dissolve in your affections  
You’ve seen me at my weakest but you take me as I am  
And when I fall you offer me a softer place to land

You stay the course you hold the line you keep it all together  
You’re the one true thing I know I can believe in  
You’re all the things that I desire you save me you complete me  
You’re the one true thing I know I can believe

I get mad so easy but you give me room to breathe  
No matter what I say or do ‘cause you’re too good to fight about it  
Even when I have to push just to see how far you’ll go  
You won’t stoop down to battle but you never turn to go

You stay the course you hold the line you keep it all together  
You’re the one true thing I know I can believe in  
You’re all the things that I desire you save me you complete me  
You’re the one true thing I know I can believe

There are times I can’t decide when I can’t tell up from down  
You make me feel less crazy when otherwise I’d drown  
But you pick me up and brush me off and tell me I’m OK  
Sometimes that’s just what we need to get us through the day

You stay the course you hold the line you keep it all together  
You’re the one true thing I know I can believe in  
You’re all the things that I desire you save me you complete me  
You’re the one true thing I know I can believe

The music died out and a wave of applause burst over the club, many rising to their feet and giving her a standing ovation. She blushed as Lorne walked back over to her and took the mic back. "And that, ladies, gentlemen, and demons, is what I call a star!" he said, then turned to her. "Are you going out the back?" he murmured. She often did after singing, not wanting to have to deal with all the well-wishers and over exuberant demons after her song. She nodded. "I’ll tell Gabe. He looks mighty happy with you, right now, cupcake."

Phoenix grinned. "He’ll be happier later."

Lorne smiled. "I don’t doubt that, honey bun. Are you coming back tomorrow night?"

"Maybe…I don’t know." she said, then headed off the stage and down the hallway that led to the alleyway. He quickly introduced the next singer, and then threaded his way through the club to the table that Gabe was sitting at, stopping at the bar to pick up a Seabreeze.

"Whew," he said, collapsing into a chair. "I used to think my job was easy. Yeah, right, eh, puddin’?"

Gabe smiled at the green-skinned demon, the nicknames that Lorne gave his friends always amused him. "It was your choice, Lorne. As I recall, Pylea has no music, and you can no more live without music than a vampire can live without blood. Where is she?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Out back waiting for you. I asked her to come back tomorrow." Lorne replied, unperturbed by the sudden topic switch.

"And what did she say to that?" Gabe asked, rising from the table and gathering Phoenix’s long, black leather trench in his arms, being ever careful of the sword.

"The usual non-committing answer," Lorne said, getting ready to go back to the bar. "Take care of her, Gabriel." He spoke softly, the young Immortal held a soft spot in his heart, and he didn’t want anything to happen to her.

"Will do," the Watcher said, and left the club, narrowly missing a tall dark vampire that his charge would have recognized.

*********

Cordelia stretched and winced as the movement made her head ache more. God, she missed Doyle, and not just because if he was still alive she wouldn’t have these damn visions. No, she missed his bad fashion sense, his constant hitting on her, his bad puns, his accent, and more. There were so many little things about Francis Doyle that she’d never noticed until after he’d given his life in the fight against the darkness that they all shared.

It had been a year since he’d died, and then maybe a month after his sacrifice, Buffy had come down to tell them that Willow had gone missing, and had been missing for weeks. Her parents assumed she was dead, and it was really beginning to look like it was true. She had delivered the news coldly, clinically, and left, not waiting to see Angel, not waiting for much of anything. Willow’s disappearance had broken her, and it was a depressing thing to see, a broken Slayer.

The offices of Angel Investigations had held a funeral air for months after the Slayer had left. It was a good thing they never had any *paying* customers, Cordy thought ruefully, rolling onto her stomach to watch Wes researching her earlier vision through the open door to his office. Neither she nor Angel had been up to fighting the darkness, and when their very own rogue demon hunter showed up, it was like a shot of caffeine straight to the vein of AI. Angel had suddenly snapped out of his mega-brood, well, he brooded a *little* less, she amended; and went back to helping people, and she put her grief away, and tried to live her life again. Not that she actually *had* a life, but still.

Wesley came out of the office with a triumphant shout before he remembered that Cordelia was lying there in some serious pain. "Sorry, Delia, but I believe it have it. Is this what you saw?" He held the book in front of her face for approval.

"Yup," she said. "Big, green, ugly, killing a school bus full of inner-city field tripper’s very soon. I think they’re at the art museum…though why they’d be there at this time of night, I have no idea." She sat up and regretted it immediately. "Ouch."

Angel came down the stairs with a bag full of weapons, even though it was just him and Wesley. It never hurt to be prepared. "We’re heading out, then. Will you be okay by yourself, Cordelia?"

"Oh yes. The blinding pain in my head will go away eventually," she said, her trademark snarkiness recovering nicely. "I think I’m going to take some painkillers and take a nap upstairs. Is that okay?"

Angel nodded, and they headed their separate ways, the guys out the front door of the hotel, and Cordelia slowly making her way upstairs to the soft bed and soothing darkness she knew was waiting for her.

*******

Phoenix leaned into the touch of her lover, his arms around her. She stared out over the city of Los Angeles, millions of lights glowing brightly below them as they stood in a clearing high in the Hollywood Hills. The Council had provided them a place to stay in L.A., but she much preferred to be outside, connecting with all the things she was no longer a part of, not really. She was part of something much larger, a world that many humans didn’t or couldn’t believe was really existent. A world where Slayers, Watchers, Immortals, and myriad demons made their home. She sighed.

"What is it, love?" Gabe asked, and she turned to face him.

"Just…thoughts. Nothing to be concerned about." She replied, bringing her lips up to his for a kiss, hoping to make him forget that she wasn’t really answering him. It worked, but she’d known it would. Not that he would leave it alone completely, just for now. And that was how she lived her life. Day to day, night to night. Waiting for something, anything, to give her a direction, a reason to keep on living.

Gabe let it go as she spun in his arms again, merely tightening his embrace as they stood there in the darkness.

*******

Cordelia was bored. Like, really, really bored. They hadn’t had anything remotely demon-y come up since her last vision, and not that she was complaining about missing the pain or anything, but without her visions, they were pretty much just sitting around waiting for something to happen. And she was not a sit around kind of girl. Determined, she stood up and marched into Wes’ office.

"Come on," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him up. "We’re going out. You can invite the brooding one if you want, but you and I are definitely going somewhere."

"What?" he said, letting her drag him into the lobby. "Cordelia, we can’t just leave…"

"Yes, we can. There isn’t anything demon shaped on the horizon, I haven’t had a vision in a week, and —" she stopped suddenly as her head exploded with pain and she tried to concentrate on the images flowing through her mind.

Red hair. Snatches of a vaguely familiar, haunting, song. Lorne. A very deadly looking sharp sword flying through the air…and then nothing.

Wesley caught her as she fell and lowered her gently to the floor as Angel came up from the basement and knelt next to them. She relayed what she’d seen then closed her eyes until Wes came back with a glass of water and four Advil in his hand. After swallowing, she sat up and looked Angel dead in the eye.

"Angel, I think it was Willow." Cordelia’s voice trembled as she said the words, not wanting to believe them, even as they echoed in the lobby.

"Are you coming with us?" was all he said, helping her up off the floor.

"Count me in." she replied, ignoring her head’s protests and walking over to the weapons chest and yanking out ‘her’ crossbow just in case. Angel took his broadsword and Wes hefted an axe, then they headed for Angel’s car.

**********

I just need a little more silence yeah I just need a little more time  
for courage to pull away there will be hell to pay deeper you cut to the bone

So leave me be I don’t want to argue I just get confused and I come all undone  
If I agree well it’s just to appease you ‘cause I don’t remember what we’re fighting for

Time here all but means nothing just shadows that move ‘cross the walls  
They keep me company but they don’t ask of me they don’t say nothing at all

Lorne knew Phoenix was upset from the way she rushed off the stage and out of the club after her song, thrusting the mic at him as though it burned her. Not to mention she’d come in alone, and almost hadn’t sung at all. She also hadn’t asked him not to read her, though he still hadn’t, out of respect for her. Now she was gone, and the patrons were a little confused, so he pulled himself together and introduced the next performer before they could riot. Not that they would or could, to be more exact, but still.

*********

Willow practically ran down the alley and out onto the street. Her nightmares had come back, and they were worse than ever. She’d almost had her head taken the other night because her mind wasn’t focused and now she only barely heard the sword drawn from behind her. She spun in a crouch, drawing her own blade and bringing it up to clash against the other Immortal’s.

"You’re distracted." He said with a laugh, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized the man. "That could get you killed, Phoenix." They continued to fight, metal ringing as they moved onto a more deserted street.

"Bite me, Duncan," Willow said, grinning as she brought her sword up in an arc. She was showing off, and he knew it, nicking her arm to teach her a lesson. She hissed in pain. "Then again, that’s not one of your kinks, is it?"

"Not particularly, I’m more enamored of bitchy redheads," he replied, ducking as she leveled a clean blow at his neck. "Nice try, but not good enough," he said, blocking another blow and shaving off a few hairs from his own swinging ponytail as he did. "Dammit!" he swore, lowering his sword to examine the damage.

Willow sheathed her own sword and walked over to him. "I didn’t get a lot, did I?" She knew how sensitive the much older Immortal was about his hair, and meant the comment.

"NO," he replied poutily, and she laughed. "Damn it, Phoenix, you always manage to cut my hair."

"Hey," she said in mock indignation. "That was your sword, mister, not mine."

"Yes, but I was blocking yours," he said, tying his hair back again and sheathing his blade.

"Soo…" Willow began. "Why are you here?" No friendly quibbling anymore, just straight to the point.

Duncan looked down at her. "Can’t I just stop by to check on my favorite Immortal?"

She narrowed her gaze at him. "No. Really, why are you here?"

He sighed. "Gabriel called me. He’s worried about you."

"He shouldn’t be. I’m fine." Willow ground out angrily, turning to walk away.

"No, you’re not," Duncan began, following her. "You almost let some newbie take your head two nights ago."

Their conversation continued as they headed off down the street, not seeing the three people across the street under the broken streetlight watching them.

*********

"What was *that*?" Cordelia muttered, stepping out of the shadows to watch the pair as they walked away, still talking. Or bickering, same thing, she thought.

"Angel, where are you -" *Dammit,* she thought as he took off after the pair, leaving her and Wesley behind. She turned to the former Watcher and said, "Any theories?"

"Well, one, actually, but it’s rather strange, and not what one would normally associate with what we do…"

"Wes, we fight vampires and demons for a living. It can’t be stranger than that." Cordelia replied, losing sight of her boss and giving it up.

"Well, I think Willow may be an, an Immortal."

"A what? Like, a vampire?" she asked, confused. They began walking back to Angel’s convertible, it was obvious the vampire wouldn’t be back for a while.

"Not exactly. I remember reading something about them, but I’m not really sure."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow that Wes couldn’t see. "Wesley, you have five thousand years of knowledge crammed into your brain. You couldn’t be any more sure."

"Very funny," he muttered as they reached the car and got in, Wesley retrieving the spare set of keys from behind the fender. "What I meant, was I am not sure I remember correctly, and I do not want to inform you wrongly."

"Just inform me already!" she replied, exasperated. Wes didn’t answer until he’d started the car and pulled out into the almost non-existent traffic.

"Immortals are an entirely separate race of…well, people, I suppose. They aren’t demons, to my knowledge, just immortal. In order to become one, you need to already be…pre-Immortal. Usually one becomes a full Immortal through rather violent death."

Wes stopped and looked over at Cordelia. "Are you all right?" he asked, noting her pale color. Then again, it could have been just the streetlight washing over her skin.

"Violent?" she breathed out. "How violent?" Things that she hadn’t seen in her earlier vision surged through her mind, and she trembled with the savagery of them.

"I do not know if there is a threshold," he admitted, and dropped the subject until he could corroborate more of his speculations back at the hotel.

END


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel confronts a couple of people and gets a couple of those heart shocks I love to write about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet set-up for the next chapter.

Angel followed Willow and the taller man nearly forty blocks before they stopped in front of a hotel. He slid back into the shadows as they made their parting words, then the petite redhead turned and walked in the other direction, completely unconcerned that she was being followed, if she even knew.

***

She knew she was being followed. She even knew it was a vampire. She didn’t know that it was a blast from her past, nor did she know that two other people she had once called friend had also seen her tonight.

After twenty-seven blocks, she turned around. "Alright, I’ve never had anyone stare at my ass for half an hour before, so come on out, and let’s get this over with." She laid one hand on the hilt of her sword, then changed her mind and let them both drop to hang loose-fisted at her side.

Angel knew he was well and truly caught, and stepped out from behind the parked car he ducked down behind when she turned and issued the challenge to her nameless shadow.

"Angel?" she gasped, her eyes widening in her pale face. Willow held her ground, stiffened knees that threatened to buckle underneath her.

"Willow," he said, more calmly than she had.

"I haven’t been that person in a very long time, Angel. Why were you following me?"

"Cordelia had a vision about you. We thought you were dead…"

"The girl you once knew is dead. I am the Phoenix. Answer the question a little better than that."

"I…we were worried. We saw that guy with the sword…" Angel trailed off, unsure of how to speak to this new creature that was not the girl he’d met in Sunnydale, yet not so very different from the Willow he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He was having a hard time reconciling that fact right about now.

"I can take care of myself. I have been for the past year. I don’t need a ‘champion’. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have someone waiting up for me." With that, Phoenix turned on her heel and began to walk, obviously dismissing him.

"Wait, Will - Phoenix, please. Where can I find you?" To hell with being all broody and stoic, he wasn’t going to let her slip away again.

The redhead stopped. "Ask around at Caritas. They know me there." She kept walking, and Angel stared after her until her leather coat had faded into the darkness, and he was alone. Caritas? What the fuck was going on here? His world was spinning off its axis, and he didn’t like it one bit. It was time to get some answers.

***********

Lorne hummed as he counted the night’s take in his office. It had been a fairly good night, after the customers got over their momentary shock at seeing Phoenix run off the stage, and only a few people had asked to be read, all with happy results. That hardly ever happened, and he was grateful for it.

He cocked his head at the sudden pounding on the back door of the club. "We’re closed, sweetlings! Time for all good demons to be heading for beddy-bye!" When the pounding didn’t cease, he got up and went to the door. "I said, oh, Angelcakes, what are you doing here? Come on in. Some big bad problem need to be solved before bedtime again?"

Angel pushed past the Pylean, and barged into his office. "Make yourself at home, cupcake. What has gotten into you tonight? You act like you haven’t fed in weeks."

"I want to know what you know about Phoenix." The vampire paced the small room, dark eyes falling every so often on Lorne, who looked shocked.

"Phoenix? I don’t know anything about her, why do you ask?"

Angel sighed, and scrubbed his hands through his hair and over his face. "Do you remember when Doyle died, last year? Do you remember me telling you that another friend of mine had died about a month after that?"

Lorne thought about it for a moment. "Yes, her name was Willow, right?"

"Right. And that would be Phoenix."

"But Phoenix is an…" Oh. The figurative lightbulb clicked on over the green-skinned demon’s head. "Immortal."

"Immortal? Like a vampire?" Now Angel was really confused. And that was saying something, after the night’s events.

Lorne sat down in his chair and picked up his nearly empty Seabreeze. "Sven!" he shouted, and a tall blond man came to the door of the office. "Refill me, would you please, honeybun? And bring something for my friend here…"

"Whiskey. Irish. Bring the bottle." Angel said quietly. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

Sven nodded and quickly brought back the required items, before going to back to his duties cleaning the front before he went home.

"No, not like a vampire," Lorne continued, once he’d taken a long drink. "Like a human, but different." He continued with the explanation until well after daybreak, leaving his poor vampire more confused than ever. Angel left through the tunnels, and Lorne went to his apartment above the club. Now he had that headache he’d successfully avoided all night.


End file.
